


Behind her eyes she's building skyscrapers

by clarias



Category: Avatar: Legend of Korra
Genre: Angst, F/F, time jump fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-03
Updated: 2014-11-06
Packaged: 2018-02-24 00:07:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,226
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2560769
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clarias/pseuds/clarias
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Asami was there when Korra finally gave in and accepted her parents’ urging to return home. She was with her most of the time.</i>
</p><p>Asami on the day Korra was supposed to return and Asami in the years in between.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Year One

**Author's Note:**

> This is complete, I'm just going to post the chapters as I edit them. I expect they'll all be up before Friday's new episode :)

When she closes her eyes all she can see are blue inked diagrams and endless calculations of stress and strength, the delicate structures of the rail terminus and the heavy foundations it rests on. Sums she runs again and again. She shouldn’t worry about it, it’s done now. All she has to do is cut a stupid ribbon.

And then -

She sighs and opens her eyes in the darkness, her mind running too fast to sleep. So much for being well rested.

Knotting her dressing gown around her waist she steps into her slippers and lets herself into the little workshop off her bedroom. It’s far smaller that the one in the factory and she only really uses it for hobby projects - the work she does to take her mind off work.

The narrow bench is littered with soldering irons and pliers and screwdrivers, shavings of metal and sharp splinters. She sweeps a space aside and slouches down into her stool, poking half-heartedly at the piece of wiring she’d been experimenting with. It’s not inspiring.

Casting around, her gaze is drawn to a tarnished jumble of metal and leather lying buried under a stack of newspaper and manuals, its brightly coloured core misted over and dull.

She tweaks it out and pulls the glove on. It feels good, heavy on her hand and powerful. Ever since she first picked it up, she admired this weapon, even if it was plucked from someone trying to attack her. Maybe because of that. She wiggles her fingers experimentally.

It creaks, moving stiffly. Rust has set into the delicate articulated joints and the leather is dry and brittle. When she holds her arm up to the wall and tries to discharge it, it sparks feebly. The smoky smell of burnt out wiring hangs in the air. 

“This won’t do,” Asami mutters. She sets to work.

 

* * *

 

Asami was there when Korra finally gave in and accepted her parents’ urging to return home. She was with her most of the time.

She squeezed her hand. “It’ll be alright, you’ll be back in no time,” she said, hoping it was true. Korra barely looked back at her.

She stood and watched as the ship took Korra south and she felt like it was taking a part of her with it.

Saying goodbye is fine if you’re the one leaving - you have new things to look forward to, a journey to occupy you. But being left behind... 

They dispersed. Asami promised to keep in touch, hugged the kids goodbye, gave Bolin and Mako a peck on the cheek and boarded the ferry to the mainland.

Her house was huge and empty as ever and she rattled around inside, keeping to her bedroom and office, looking out at the world from behind her double glazed windows. She  took a holiday, didn’t go to the factory. Things were ticking away there, it barely needed her input to stay running. 

She put the glove away. Just until Korra was better - which she knew would be soon. 

::

The blank paper was taunting her. 

She didn’t know what to write, so little time had passed and she had done so little with it. 

_Dear Korra, I miss you already. Please come back. Love, Asami._

She groaned and scrunched it up, tossing it into the wastepaper basket at her feet. She wished Korra were here - they never seemed to have trouble talking face to face.

_Dear Korra, I hope you’re enjoying the South Pole. We all miss you here, we hope you recover soon. Asami._

Better.

::

She improved at writing the letters. She never wrote “love Asami” again, it felt like too much. 

She also didn’t receive any in return.

Having fruitlessly sifted through her stack of mail she sighed and opened the newspaper and learned about Bolin's new job. His name was prominent among the list of Republic citizens joining Kuvira’s taskforce - the paper carefully didn’t call it an army. She frowned - didn’t Bolin think she warranted something, even a letter? But then she counted the days and realised that she hadn’t seen either of the boys for three months.

She leaned back in her chair and wondered at it - three months, and she’d barely noticed. And what did she have to show for it?

She had been waiting. For Korra to get back, for life to return to normal. Obviously Bolin hadn’t been waiting around, he was going out and finding adventure on his own.

::

It did her heart good to see Ikki and Meelo again, practically vibrating with excitement as they waited to greet her. Even Pokey flew up to her, perching on her shoulder and gripping onto her hair.

“Have you heard from Korra?” Ikki asked as soon as she set foot on the pier, her face eager.

“No,” she had to shake her head and admit. “Have you?”

They both shook their heads and she frowned. Was Korra really not in touch with any of them?

She didn’t have long to ponder though as the kids dragged her up the hill to the welcoming bustle of the main compound of Air Temple Island. It was so much busier than it used to be, new airbenders circulating among the acolytes, the courtyard full of pupils dressed in orange moving through their forms. 

Dimly Asami realised some cloth maker must be making a killing.

“Where’s Jinora?” she asked, looking around.

Ikki rolled her eyes. “Probably meditating. Or making out with Kai,” she said, derision dripping from her voice.

Pema greeted her warmly as they let themselves into the kitchen. Whatever she was cooking smelled delicious and she gave Asami a brief hug before returning to stirring her pot. 

“It’s lovely to see you, Asami,” she said. “We missed you after Korra left. We miss all of you, honestly.”

“It’s nice to be back, thanks for inviting me,” she smiled, seating herself and the roughly hewn kitchen table while Ikki chased Meelo around the room.

“Have you heard from her by any chance?” Pema asked, her casual tone undeniably forced. 

“No, sorry,” she sighed.

“I’m sure she’s just busy, focussing on her recovery,” the older woman said reassuringly.

“Yeah,” Asami agreed, “probably.”

The door flew open and Jinora breezed in. She was amazed to see her hair was already growing in, a soft down which shadowed over the bright blue of her tattoo.

“Mom, when’s dinner? Oh Asami! Hey!” she said, noticing her.

“As soon as you and your sister set the table,” Pema said, pointing them at the tableware.

They both groaned. “How come Meelo doesn’t have to help?” Ikki complained.

“Because I’m a man!” he said, puffing out his chest importantly.

“No,” Pema corrected him, “because you’re going to help me carry through these dishes.”

“Can I help?” Asami offered, hiding a laugh as best she could.

“Don’t worry dear, you’re our guest,” Pema replied, loading a deflated Meelo up with bowls. “Just come through.”

::

When the food was all gone and the kids had been sent dragging their heels to bed she sat up with Pema and Tenzin, a gloom descending over them. His brows were furrowed, the situation in the Earth Kingdom was weighing on him heavily. They’d all held out hope that order would be restored naturally but it seemed the red lotus’ dream had come true - chaos was reigning, the kingdom splintering as power fell to whoever had the strength to take it. Local governors had become the only ones able to defend against warlords grabbing for power; some of them had become the warlords.

It didn’t sound terribly ‘free’ to her.

“Why didn’t Su want to do it?” she asked, surprised the woman didn’t step up when she was asked to. She clearly had vision and the will to lead.

Tenzin sighed. “Who knows, I’m sure she has her reasons.”

“And she has that Bei Fong stubbornness,” Pema added dryly, earning her a sidelong frown from her husband.

“At least Kuvira is doing something,” Asami said.

“But what about you?” Tenzin asked. “Enough politics, what have you been up to?”

She sat stunned, at a loss for what to say.

She had written a lot of very short letters to the South Pole. She had checked her mail religiously every day. She had rearranged her closet twice.

“Not much,” she admitted. “I suppose I’ve been waiting.”

They both frowned sympathetically and she shifted uncomfortably in her seat.

“It’s just, what if I start a big project then Korra comes back and we have to go fight bad guys in the earth kingdom?” she said, trying to make it sound lighthearted. 

“I think,” Pema said carefully, “you shouldn’t plan your life around guessing when Korra might get better.”

“My mother has written and said it could be some time,” Tenzin elaborated. “Korra is in a very bad way, and she has a long road ahead of her.”

Asami’s heart sank. “That doesn’t mean we should forget about her, though.”

“No,” Pema agreed. “But you need to carry on with your life in the meantime. You’re young, you’re successful, you should be enjoying yourself.”

“Don’t put your life on hold,” Tenzin said gravely.

Asami stared determinedly into her teacup, swirling the leaves around. She wondered if there was a message hidden there, if only she knew how to interpret it.

It’s not that she had put her life on hold, exactly, it was just that her life had been so tied up with the avatar gang. She wasn’t sure what to do if she couldn’t run around saving the world.

“You’re right,” she said, putting on a smile. "I won't."

She saw them both relax fractionally.

::

She sat in her dark office, only the dim light of her desk lamp illuminating the huge room. 

_Dear Korra, I went to Air Temple Island today. Pema cooked banda-bari and the cabbage made Meelo fartbend all night._

She didn’t want to say what they talked about - Korra didn’t need to hear about people moving on, forgetting her.

She sketched a lemur idly in the margins. She was fascinated by the shape of Pokey’s wings, the way they could hold something so heavy aloft. From an aeronautics point of view lumurs were incredible.

She took out a new sheet of paper and drew out the shapes, doing a rough diagram of the lift and thrust that must be involved, trying to figure out the mechanics. She wondered whether it could be scaled up but a few scribbled calculations told her it would be impossible.

Impossible, that is, unless the person being held up could also manipulate the air around them, she realised.

She set aside Korra’s letter and worked in earnest.


	2. Year Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone who has already bookmarked and left kudos :)

 

The ceremony goes off with barely a hitch.

She cuts the ribbon, smiles for a photo and extricates herself from a conversation with Reiko.

That man gives her the creeps - he’s always urging her to donate to his campaigns or join some kind of foundation or society. He’s just such a... politician.

Prince Wu, on the other hand, is the least statesmanlike person she’s ever met. And she’s met Korra.

It’s frankly insulting - here she is in the prime of her youth and she’s being hit on by a teenager. It’s like being wolf-whistled at by an eleven year old at a bus stop. She wishes she had her newly cleaned glove on her hand, not resting quietly in the trunk of her car.

Also, he’s trying way, way too hard. She can recognise that kind of hyper heterosexuality a mile off.

“It’s almost a shame,” she says to Mako, watching over his shoulder as the prince makes a gesture which can only be described as _flamboyant._

Mako frowns at her blankly. “What is?”

“You know, that he does this whole womanising act,” she explains.

“Act?”

He still looks completely blank and she really doesn’t want to be the one to explain the facts of life to him. 

“Nothing, forget I said anything,” she says wearily.

Some people really don’t notice these things.

 

* * *

 

 

 The grand clock ticked above her, marking off the minutes and seconds until her meeting. She bit her lip and rearranged her portfolio again.

“Asami!” Mako called across the lobby, waving at her.

He looking strikingly different - a sharp figure in his new uniform, his hair slicked back from its usual unruly tangle. She was suddenly fiercely glad to see him, she had missed him more than she had known. She excused herself from her team, the engineers and designers come to back up her pitch, and made her way across to him.

“Mako, how are you?” she said, pulling him in for a peck on the cheek. “It’s been forever.”

“A year, nearly” he said.

“Since Korra went home,” she finished for him and he nodded.

“I like the new hairstyle,” he said, waving a hand behind his own head. She touched the bun she’d scooped her hair into.

“Just something I’m trying. I like the uniform, it suits you,” she replied. 

He blushed and made a face. “So, what brings you here?” he asked.

“You know they’re revamping the transport network?” she asked and he nodded. It was hard news to miss, it had been all over Reiko’s re-election material. “Future Industries is pitching for it.”

“I’m sure you’ll blow them away,” he said.

She laughed and shook her head. “Thanks for the vote of confidence, I think you’re the only one rooting for me at this point.”

He frowned at her. “What? Who’s rooting against you?”

She waved the question away, it was really more than she wanted to think about immediately before her presentation. “It’s ridiculous politics. Nothing important. I should be getting back though,” she said, looking up at the clock.

“We need to catch up, we should have dinner,” Mako said.

She felt a pang of nostalgia, remembering when she said much the same thing to him all those years ago. “You’re right,” she smiled. “Kwong’s Cuisine? At 8?”

He nodded. “At 8.”

::

It was a stupid joke, she told herself, slicking a layer of gloss onto her lips. But what if he thought it meant this was a _date_ date.

She may have forgiven Mako for his stupid behaviour but she wasn’t keen to get on for another ride. Hopefully he would understand, and not take her outburst of nostalgia for an invitation to kiss her. 

_Dear Korra, I won the contract today, even though it meant spending a whole hour kissing President Reiko’s ass._

Dreaming up letters to write to Korra had become a habit, something she did as she brushed her teeth in the morning or in the moments before sleep. She only wrote a fraction of what she thought down, most of it too trivial to be worth reporting. That might make the cut though.

It felt a lot like throwing messages into the dark, though, never receiving a reply, but she kept on throwing, hoping they reached their target.

She wiped off the lipgloss. Just in case it gave the wrong impression.

::

Mako was sitting at their table already when she arrived, red faced and stiffly suited. She took a moment to admire his profile and the fact that this time, nearly two years later, he could afford his own suit.

“Asami,” he blurted out as she took her seat. “I hope we can still be friends but I'm really just concentrating on my career right now and - ”

The laughter bubbled up out of her, she couldn’t help it. Evidently they were both having the same panic. He stopped dead and looked at her cautiously. 

“Me too,” she said. “I really did just invite you here as a friend.”

He sagged visibly. “Thank the spirits.”

“Now let’s order some drinks,” she said, flagging down a waiter. “I’ve got something to celebrate.”

::

He walked her home, holding her arm as she wobbled she short couple of blocks to her new apartment.

It was clean and modern and small and didn’t remind her of the past at all. She had moved in six months ago, finally selling the mansion to a rich Earth Kingdom family rich enough to flee Ba Sing Se and desperate enough to ignore her family history.

She giggled into Mako’s shoulder.

“And there he was, all solemn and beardy and just - _Tenziny_ \- trying on this skin-tight suit,” she laughed, “and I couldn’t laugh!”

“At least the suits are a success,” Mako said in between gusts of laughter.

“But at what cost?” she asked seriously as she fished out her keys. She stepped inside and held the door for Mako.

“Am I invited up?” he asked and she swatted him on the arm.

“Of course.”

::

They sprawled across her leather couch, two softly steaming cups of tea on the table in front of them. She kept the room dark, only a single dim lamp turned on.

She took a sip of her tea, wincing at the almost-burn of it. 

“I miss Korra,” she said suddenly.

Mako looked up, his hair ruffled from its slicked down style. “What?”

“I miss Korra,” she repeated. She hadn’t meant to say it, but it was true and being around Mako, it reminded her of the old days.

“Me too,” Mako agreed. “It feels like everyone has left. Bolin sends me loads of letters but it’s not the same. We were inseparable for long, you know? The fabulous bending brothers,” he said, waving his hands in the air. “And now he’s a world away.”

“Did she ever write you back?” she asked. She didn’t have to specify who ‘she’ was.

He shook his head morosely. “None. I can’t blame her really, I suck at letters.”

Asami thought about the letter sitting in her desk, its creases well worn and soft from many handlings. She didn’t mention it.

He sighed. “I miss her too. But she’s not well, she’s got to get better.”

“What if she doesn’t? Ever? Does that mean she can never come home?”

Mako flinched. “Don’t talk like that, she’ll get better. She has to.”

“But what if she can’t?” she insisted, her emotions rising. “People do that all the time, they get sick and they don’t get better. It doesn’t mean she has to be away from the people who care about her.”

She could feel the tears dripping down her cheeks and into her teacup and she willed them back, wishing she could get back their happy camaraderie. 

Mako shuffled across to her awkwardly, going to put his arm around her. She shrugged it off and stood up, pacing the room. Mako kept his eyes down.

“So how is it being a detective?” she asked briskly, barely even bothering to hide the fact she was changing the subject.

He shrugged. “How is it being a captain of industry?”

She laughed emptily and sat back down. The tea was making her sleepy, her eyes growing heavy.

“Korra will come back,” Mako said softly, laying a hand on her shoulder again. She didn’t bother to move it. “She always bounces back.”

“Do you still love her?” she asked, avoiding his eyes.

He lay down, collapsing onto the sofa and stared up at the dark ceiling. He looked softer in the dim light, his face relaxed from its usual stern expression. 

“I don’t think I’ll ever not be in love with her, but we didn’t work out,” he said finally, his voice far off and small in the silence of the night. “I wasn’t just talking when I said I was concentrating on my career - I’m doing good things now, and I don’t want to mess it up.”

He yawned broadly, half heartedly covering his mouth with a hand. “What about you? Seeing anyone?” he asked groggily.

“Not really,” she replied. “I’m focussing on Future Industries.”

It felt rote in her mouth, the words stale. She’d had chances in the last year, of course she had. A few she’d even found interesting. But something had always held her back, that one thread she couldn’t sever.

“I think I might be in love with Korra,” she said finally, swirling the dregs of her tea in its cup. She had never said it out loud, had never really let herself think about it even, but it was there, a weight on her heart. “Isn’t that funny? You and me and her.” She didn’t laugh.

Mako snored loudly, his face smushed into the leather of the sofa cushion.

She sighed and took their cups, draping a blanket over Mako’s sleeping form as she took them to the kitchen to rinse.

_Dear Korra, I realised something tonight. It’s something I should tell you in person though. Please come back._

Another letter she won’t send, she thought as she made her way to bed.

::

She said goodbye to Mako in the morning having shared a mostly silent breakfast with him.

She put her confession out of her mind, after all no one had heard it. It was as if she had never said it. She had things to do, things to build. 

 


	3. Year Three

It feels totemic, the glove a steady weight in her handbag. She didn’t take it because she thought she would need it - Korra is visiting for ceremonial purposes, after all - but it feels like a part of their old life. A symbol for what they stood for. So much has changed - so much time has passed - she wants something the same.

Pema gives her a warm hug hello and squeezes her hard. “What do you think you were doing, not visiting for so long?”

“I’m sorry,” she replies sincerely. “It really has been too long.”

“But then, you’ve been so busy - they’re saying the new rail terminus is the best in the world.”

“Let’s see how it does after more than a day,” she laughs. “Do you have somewhere I can wash up? I’ve been on my feet all day.”

“Of course,” Pema says, and bustles her towards a little bathroom.

It’s kitted out plainly and simply in air nomad style. She touches up her make up in the little mirror hung over the sink and considers her hair, thinks about taking it down. That feels dishonest, though she has no idea why.

She leaves it and goes back out to join the crowd assembling to greet Korra, the excitement buzzing in her chest.

She wonders what she’ll say when she sees her; what Korra will say in reply. 

 

* * *

 

She perched on a barstool, swirling a mostly full glass of wine and desperately trying to avoid anyone who knew her.

It felt wrong to be having a party to celebrate President Reiko's brilliantly successful transport network when it was still weeks away from completion. People - Asami's employees to be exact - were going home tired and dirty while the city's movers and shakers were here in their silks and furs.

No expense had been spared, apparently - she looked above to the elegantly vaulted ceiling of Republic City's swishiest hotel's ballroom. The music was lively, the food was good and the drinks were plentiful. She took a sip and tried to rally herself. As much as the designing and organising, this was a part of her job and all she needed to do was attend and pose for a few photos. Never mind that she would rather be at home doing some light welding.

A deep throaty laugh caught her attention and she looked across to see a woman poking a manicured finger into President Reiko's chest and laughing at him. The usually pompous man was shrinking away from her. She looked vaguely familiar, but she wasn't sure from where.

The woman noticed her looking, their eyes connecting across the room. She arched one sculpted eyebrow while Asami blushed furiously and looked down at her drink. When she glanced up again helplessly she saw the woman whisper into Reiko's ear, pointing to Asami.

They both approached her, cutting through the milling crowd.

"Ms. Sato," Reiko said, "may I introduce Ms Mirza."

"Oh please," the elegant woman said, reaching out her hand. Up close Asami could tell she was actually very young - probably only a few years older than her. "Call me Leela."

"Call me Asami," she said, taking her hand. She noticed the way the other girl dipped her head to gaze up at her through her lashes despite already being a head shorter, the way she let their hands linger together. She pulled her hand back and quickly took another drink.

"Leela's father is an old friend of mine," Reiko explained. Asami studied her face - it was so familiar.

"You're also the CEO of Mirza Make-Up, aren't you?" Asami asked, realising where she recognised her from. Her face adorned ads everywhere from magazines in boutiques to posters pasted on her factory walls.

Leela's eyes sparkled, a pleased smirk playing on her red lips. Asami felt like she'd passed some kind of test. "Well spotted," she said in a throaty drawl. "One day I woke up and thought - these boring old men are selling me ways to be beautiful when I already know so much more than them. Why not make some money at it?"

Asami laughed while Reiko shifted uncomfortably. She certainly was beautiful: her long black hair was twisted into elaborate coils on her head and her dark eyes were starkly outlined with kohl.

"Like building the country's biggest cosmetics company from the ground up is no big deal?" she asked.

She shrugged. "It wasn't."

"Excuse me ladies, I think I'm needed elsewhere," Reiko interrupted them, bowing to kiss Leela on the hand before disappearing into the crowd. Asami watched him go until Leela sighed and drew her attention back.

"Such dull events these, don't you think?" she said, gesturing to the bartender.

"Absolutely," Asami agreed distractedly, struggling to keep her eyes off the bright red flash of her lips and the long line of her throat as she downed a glass of water. She felt herself leaning into the other girl's orbit. Her heart was fluttering in her chest, a magnetic attraction pulling them together, filling her with warmth.

Leela leaned over, putting a hand just an inch too high on her leg.

"Want to blow this joint?" she whispered, her lips brushing against the rim of her ear.

Asami turned to look at her, her face dangerously close. She was sure she wasn't mistaking the signals - Leela's smile was flirtatious, her eyes dipped to look at Asami's lips, which she realised she was biting.

Hesitating, she stared at the other girl's mouth. It had been so long.

Leela smirked and stepped away, turning to hold out a hand.

Asami finished her glass in a heroic gulp and took it.

::

Leela followed her home, the dark streets quiet.

She didn't waste a minute, pulling Asami down into a scorching kiss the moment the door closed behind them, knotting her hands into her hair. She groaned into her mouth and let herself be pushed against the wall, the hard pressure of the body against her a thrilling weight. Her hands fluttered uncertainly, landing on Leela's waist and tightened as the other girl brushed her neck with feather light kisses.

"Oh!" she gasped when she bit down hard, the feeling transmitting throughout her whole body. Leela laughed dirtily against her neck and rocked their hips together.

"Do you always take someone home from parties?" Asami asked breathlessly, tipping her head back to let her bite more tingling hot marks into her neck.

"Only when I meet someone particularly fascinating," she replied, pulling back until she was just out of reach. Asami watched her, silhouetted against the window at her back, as she kicked off her pumps and shimmied out of her dress. She leaned back against the cool of the wall, heat gusting off her body, biting her lip.

"What about you? Do you always go home with strangers who whisper in your ear?" Leela asked, unpinning her hair and letting it tumble around her shoulders.

"Not lately, no," Asami said softly, stepping forward back into her space. She put her hands on her face, holding her as she kissed her deeply, unhurriedly.

"Well," Leela whispered, pulling back enough to smile into the space between them. "Since this is a special occasion, let's make it worthwhile."

::

She woke up and stretched, touching the delicate bruises blooming along her neck. She would need to wear scarves for a few days but her whole body buzzed with arousal at the touch.

Leela liked to use her mouth, she had learned.

The woman herself was gone, only the smell of her lingering on the sheets and a note on the pillow: an apology for leaving and a number scrawled below. Asami smiled and walked naked to her bathroom, turning the water on hot.

::

_Dear Korra, I hooked up last night. She was lovely and I'm not sorry but I don't think I'm in love with her._

She toyed with the note in her hand, considering calling the number. She hadn't even heard from Korra in more than a year, hadn't seen her in nearly three. It was absurd to be holding on after all this time, a thread she'd refused to let go of when she didn't even know if anyone was holding the other end.

The phone in front of her rang abruptly.

"Hello?" she answered.

"Asami, it's Tenzin. I tried to find you last night to tell you but I couldn't find you anywhere," he said.

"Oh, yeah," she said, blushing. "I left early. But, tell me what? Is everything ok?"

"Oh yes, everything is fine. It's excellent news, actually: Korra is coming to Republic City, in a month."

She held the receiver with shaky hands, her breath standing still in her lungs and a hope bubbling up inside her like she hadn't felt in years.

"Asami?" Tenzin asked, and she realised she hadn't responded.

"Yes, I'm here!" she replied, "that is great news."

"Tonraq wrote to say he'd travel up so he can attend Prince Wu's coronation with Korra."

"Finally," she whispered, a whole new realm of possibilities opening up before her.

Leela's number sat forgotten.

 

* * *

 

Her heart is leaden in her chest. She looks out over the water, the air growing damp and chill around her.

Korra is missing. She must have lied to her parents - or worse, she meant to come here, but something happened on the journey to delay her, or -

No, she wouldn’t consider it. Korra is alive. She must be.

Reiko had scuttled back to his office grumbling under his breath, Tenzin was consulting urgently with Tonraq and Pema had herded her children back inside. Mako tried to comfort her - maybe he did hear her that night, or maybe her feelings are just showing all too clearly on her face - but she brushed him off.

She clutches the letter to her chest. She brought it with her, she can barely seem to let go of it. She’s made a life, she tried not to hold herself in stasis but now she wants to share all this with Korra, to show her what she’s done and show her the spaces she’s kept carved out for someone else to fill.

“Where are you?” she says into the night. “Come back.”

She sits alone, only hoping that wherever Korra is she’s safe.

That she’ll come back eventually.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I realised half way through writing this that it would have a sad ending which is totally not my jam so... sorry?


End file.
